Friday, April 29, 2005

Coming Down the (Coors) Mountain

Jane's Addiction's "Mountain Song" is now being used in a commercial for Coors beer. Oh, damn, I feel old now. It's hard to believe that my teenage anthems, the music we were so proud of and so precious about, is being used to hock crappy beer. This is what my mother must have felt when the Beatles' "Revolution" was used to sell Nikes. Ah, et tu, Jane's Addiction? Et tu?

Which brings me to a story...the story of when I, Zen Angel, met Jane's Addiction.

I was in high school, and Jane's Addiction was a popular band for the maladjusted and socially unfit...so in other words, few people in countryfied Dayton other than myself and people like me had ever heard of them. This was pre-Lollapallooza, remember. Pre-Nirvana. When "alternative" music was still being called "modern rock" or "college music," and the only station that played it was in Cinncinati...and you could only get reception if it wasn't raining.

But I digress.

As I said, I was in high school, and a Jane's Addiction fan. A close friend of mine (who I will call "Ellen" here) and I were hanging out at her house when her father called. He was a manager for a major hotel in the city...and wanted to let us know that the Jane's Addiction guys were staying at his hotel following their local concert. Excited, we grabbed our vinyl copies of Nothing's Shocking and staked out the hotel.

We waited for hours, existing on nacho cheese Combos and warm Cherry 7-Up. Finally, the band and their entourage arrived. Albums and magic markers in hand...we approached the band member who, in our eyes, was the most desirable: a young Dave Navarro. We asked him for an autograph, and graciously, Dave reached for the albums to oblige us.

This is when the encounter turned...surreal.

Perry Farrell's girlfriend (significant other, spouse, whatever), a mousy, blue-haired chick who was clearly too drunk to be standing upright, completely freaked out. She smacked Ellen's album out of Dave's hand, and begin to scream, "Perry Farrell has worked ALL NIGHT for his fans! He is TIRED and NEEDS TO REST! Can't you people leave him alone? Can't you just fuck off for a little while?"

"No one was talking to Perry. Leave us the hell alone," was my response.

"Fuck YOU, bitch! Don't you DARE talk to ME that way!" Blue-Hair replied. And then she spit on me. Yes...SPIT on me. So I reached for her, ready to knock her cheap piercings right out of her funky head.

At that point, everything happened really fast. People got in the middle of the two of us. At first, she was screaming for help. Once it became clear that there was no way I could now get to her, she began screaming at me again, calling me all sorts of names and cursing like crazy. I've known sailors with less colorful vocabularies. But I had a potty mouth to beat the band (no pun intended), and was holding my own pretty well, if I do say so myself.

Perry seemed used to her tirades, and amused by the near-cat fight (and some men invariably are). Between him and several other members of the entourage, the happy couple were finally escorted to the hotel room, Blue-Hair bitching constantly the whole way. Ellen swore, afterwards, that the shrew through her shoe at me just before going into the room, but I never saw this. Not saying it didn't happen...just that I didn't personally witness it.

Dave and one of the other band members (I think the drummer, I am not sure) stayed behind.

Now, I realize that these days, Dave Navarro is a pompous windbag...full of himself and in love with the media. But try as I might, I cannot think badly of him for it...because in my mind, I will always remember him as a gentleman for his behavior after the near-fight with the Blue-Haired Shrew.

Dave apologized, signed our albums, and chatted with us for a moment. He never spoke badly of Perry or the girlfriend...but it was clear from his demeanor that he did not approve of their antics. I was clearly pissed, and Ellen (a sensitive soul if ever one lived) was upset. Dave was charming, and put us both at ease. Within a few moments, the bit of nastiness (that was now, presumably, sleeping off the night's excesses) was all but forgotten.

After a short while, he begged off, as he was very clearly exhausted. We thanked him for his time, and meant it. He was polite, gracious and appreciative of us as fans.

I suppose in this day and age, I would have been encouraged to sue. What a laugh! Sue for being spit on. Milk it for 15 minutes of fame while the press ate it up before moving on to the next media-whore.

But this was the early 90's, and that never occured to me. Even if it had...I wouldn't have done it. Not only is such an idea ridiculous (what damage, really, can even the most well-flung loogey do?), I would not have wanted to get Ellen's dad in trouble for letting us know the band was there in the first place. He needed that job, there being a pretty nasty recession going on at the time and all.

Some time later, Jane's Addiction received an award for the video "Been Caught Stealing." And lo and behold, there on the stage, accepting the award...the Blue-Haired Shrew! Drunk again. "Perry Farrell IS Jane's Addiction! Perry is god!" And beside her, an embarrassed-looking, long-suffering Dave Navarro.

I felt for him, man. I really did.

And so ends but one of my Celebrity Encounters...for a punk chick from Ohio, I have had a good share of them...and as the mood strikes me, look for my stories on such encounters with The Ramones, Rob Lowe, local Portland DJ Pork Chop, Dayton celeb Dr. Creep, Fugazi, Kim & Kelly Deal (of the Breeders), Leonard Nimoy and Queen Noor of Jordan....

Nutbag Mothers: Nutbags in Real Life

Tuesday was a day for Nutbags in real life.

Jonathan was off on Tuesday, so we decided to run a number of errands. On two such errands, I ran into NUTBAG MOTHERS.

The first nutbag encounter occured at a department store, where we had tried (in vain) to find shoes for Eden's rather wide feet (if anyone knows a good store to buy nice, size 4 baby sneakers for wide feet...I will be forever in your debt. It's like trying to find the Holy Grail at this point). Eden does NOT like trying on shoes...and by the time we were ready to leave, she was VERY grouchy and starting to throw a full-blown tantrum. She began to scream and try to get out of my arms. I put her on the ground, established eye contact, and said in a firm voice: "NO."

Now, I am a loud person by nature...and when I am being firm, even more so. I was NOT yelling...but I was loud.

In any event, Eden calmed down and I picked her back up. Just as I was settling her on my hip, I hear a voice behind me saying, "NOT appropriate! Not appropriate AT ALL!"

I turn around, and realize that it is a woman and she is talking to me. I decide to ignore her, but she will not be ignored.

"That was NOT APPROPRIATE! She is TOO YOUNG!"

"Too young for what?" my husband asks. I am still trying to ignore her, but by drawing her into conversation...Jonathan has now made that impossible. Sigh.

"Too young to do that to! She doesn't understand the word no! She's too little to be yelled at! It's inappropriate!"

"Lady," my husband continues, "She's 19 months old. She knows what 'no' means. Do you have any kids?"

"I have two children!" she replies haughtily.

"Well, we have three, and we know what we're doing," says Jonathan, and turns away from the lady.

But the lady is not done.

"I don't care how many kids you have! That was NOT APPROPRIATE! She is too young for discipline!"

I am not going to argue with this nutbag. It is clearly not worth it. I simply turn to her and say, "Please, mind your own business."

The woman has the nerve to look at me as if I were being rude.

I don't know how this nutbag was raised; but I was taught to mind my own affairs and not those of others. I can't imagine confronting a total stranger in a store and criticizing their parenting. Not to mention, her protestations were just as loud as my firm "NO."

What kills me, is that had I allowed Eden to have a tantrum...I am sure some other nutbag would have had something to say to me about that. Whatever happened to keeping your damned nose out of other peoples' lives?

I can only imagine what this lady's kids must be like...if she thinks a 19-month-old doesn't understand a firm "NO," and should not be told "NO." She's a future Nanny 911 case, I'm sure. And what will the nannies teach her? To get down to the child's level, establish eye contact, and give a firm "NO!" LOL.

Anyhoo...we were far too busy that day to spend much time on Nutbag Mommy #1's issues. After many more errands, we found ourselves at the mall, trying again (in vain) to find shoes for the baby. After a little lunch, I took the baby over to the Baby Playland.

Baby Playland is a little area in the mall completely surrounded by a soft, circular couch. Inside are small playground-type pieces of equipment meant for the preschool-and-under set. It's a great place to let little ones run off some steam, or to nurse in comfort. I've used it many times, and this was the first time Eden really played and had a great time. I sat near a single father whose daughter is a month younger than Eden, and indulged in a little toddler-care chit chat.

Enter Nutbag Mommy #2.

NM2 has five kids. The youngest is a small baby, maybe 3 or 4 months old. The middle two are probably 3 and 4...and the oldest? 10 and 12 by my estimation.

Now, there is a "you must be smaller than this to play here" sign posted at the entry. This is to protect the little ones. There is a play area for bigger kids...and this was not it.

NM2 does not care...and her two oldest are clearly WAY over the size limit.

This would not normally bother me...after all, a mom alone with 5 kids has to pick her battles. What DID bother me, was the behavior of the whole clan once they were inside the circle.

The first thing NM2 does is put the baby in a pumpkin seat and prop a bottle with a blanket. Ew, ew, ew. She then begins to read a book, ignoring the baby and the other kids. The toddlers take over one of the more popular pieces of equipment and refuse to let anyone else near it. That is not too unusual for toddlers---they are, after all, the "mine, mine, mine" set. What was unusual, was the mom ignoring it alltogether.

Even that was not as bad as what her oldest two were doing: they were pretending to be ninjas: kicking, punching and spinning all over the playland, knocking down toddlers and babies in their wake. Never once did they say they were sorry, or try to help the kids up. Never once did NM2 say anything to these kids.

I pulled Eden closer to me and kept her away from the Whirling Dervishes, who had now added a new game to their repertoire: standing on the couch and running around it, knocking down adults, even those nursing small babies. At this, NM2 finally took notice and said, in a sing-song kind of voice, "Now, calm down, you two!" Yeah, they are going to scramble to obey THAT.

Jonathan then shows up, with my two oldest in tow (he had taken them to the Big Kids area). We grab Eden and leave.

In the car, I tell Jonathan all about NM2, and how glad I was that none of the kids were seriously injured.

To which Jonathan replies, "And yet, you still didn't run up to the mom and yell 'NOT APPROPRIATE! NOT APPROPRIATE!'"

We both had a good laugh at that.

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Sunday, April 24, 2005

Nutbags Caught On Film: Aw, Isn't That Sweet? NOT!

Looking at this nutbag woman's laughing face, I just want to yell: YOU! OUT OF THE DAMNED GENE POOL! NOW!

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Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Put Your Baby Where We Can See 'Em!

My in-laws live in Kettering...


Cops 'Bust' Woman After Birth in Mix-Up

KETTERING, Ohio- A woman rushing to a hospital to give birth hit a few stops along the way - first at a gas station where she delivered the baby herself, then when confused police ordered her out of the car at gunpoint.

Debbie Coleman, whose 3- and 4-year-old daughters were asleep in the back seat, pulled over at a gas station just after midnight Tuesday.

"I asked if she needed help, and she just leaned back in the seat, hollered a little, and I looked down and there was the baby's head," said station co-owner Lloyd Goff, who was alerted to the emergency at pump No. 7 by a customer.

"She caught that baby, put it to her chest, gave me a look, like, 'I gotta go,' closed the door, put the van in gear and away she went."

A customer at the gas station in suburban Dayton tried to give police a heads-up about Coleman's situation, but a mix-up involving the license plate number had them thinking the van was stolen.

As officers went looking for her, Coleman headed for the hospital, naked below the waist and with the baby boy in her arm. His umbilical cord was still attached.

Meanwhile, police had straightened out the license plate issue. But another caller mistakenly reported someone trying to throw a baby from a van.

Coleman said she noticed several cruisers following her before one cut her off. With guns drawn, officers ordered her out of the van with her hands up.

"I opened the door and said, 'I just had a baby' and just let them see everything," she said.

Officers sent Coleman on and let the hospital know she was coming.

Coleman was discharged Wednesday. Her 6-pound, 8-ounce son, Richard Lee Coleman Jr., remained in intensive care.

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What Every Home Needs: A Plastic Urinal!

Now, I really have seen it all:

Peter Potty

What really cracks me up is the slogan:

"The World’s Only Flushable Toddler Urinal Helps Train Little Boys to Be Stand Up Guys!"

Can you imagine actually having one of these in your house? Having to CLEAN it? Or worse, getting it as a gift? "Gee, thanks Aunt Doris, just what every home needs...a plastic urinal!"

:)

Saturday, April 16, 2005

Quiz #36: Which Sexy Cartoon Character Are You?

I haven't done one of these in a while, so here we go:



MY RESULTS:



You're Jessica Rabbit!
Jessica Rabbit


Who 's Your Inner Sexy Cartoon Chick ?
brought to you by Quizilla

An Update, and a REAL Living Will

Sorry I haven't been around to blog so much the past few days...the neuralgia is kicking my ass. On the rare moments I am actually out of pain, I am desperately trying to catch up on lost sleep. But I have not forgotten my loyal ZPT fans, never fear. Nor my inane need to pour out my soul and anger at nutbags to the general public for no apparent reason.

To wit, I offer the following, which was sent to me via email and attributed to one Bill Allen, and is just wonderful. Even if you have a living will...it might not hurt to have this one, too, lol:



Florida - Living Will


I, _________________________ (fill in the blank), being of sound mind and body, unequivocally

declare that in the event of a catastrophic injury, I do not wish to be kept alive indefinitely by artificial means. I hereby instruct my loved ones and relatives to remove all life-support systems, once it has been determined that my brain is longer functioning in a cognizant realm. However, that judgment should be made only after thorough consultation with medical experts; i.e., individuals who actually have been trained, educated and certified as doctors.

Under no circumstances -- and I can't state this too strongly -- should my fate be put in the hands of peckerwood politicians who couldn't pass ninth-grade biology if their lives depended on it. Furthermore, it is my firm hope that, when the time comes, any discussion about terminating my medical treatment should remain private and confidential.

Living in Florida, however, I am acutely aware that the legislative and executive branches of state government are fond of meddling in family matters, and have little concern for the privacy and dignity of individuals.

Therefore, I wish to make my views on this subject as clear and unambiguous as possible. Recognizing that some politicians seem cerebrally challenged themselves (and with no medical excuse), I'll try to keep this simple and to the point:

1. While remaining sensitive to the feelings of loved ones who might cling to hope for my recovery, let me state that if a reasonable amount of time passes -- say, ____ (fill in the blank) months -- and I fail to sit up and ask for a cold beer, it should be presumed that I won't ever get better. When such a determination is reached, I hereby instruct my spouse, children and attending physicians to pull the plug, reel in the tubes and call it a day.



2. Under no circumstances shall the members of the Legislature enact a special law to keep me on life-support machinery. It is my wish that these boneheads mind their own damn business, and pay attention instead to the health, education and future of the millions of Floridians who aren't in a permanent coma.



3. Under no circumstances shall the governor of Florida butt into this case and order my doctors to put a feeding tube down my throat. I don't care how many fundamentalist votes he's trying to scrounge for his brother in 2004, it is my wish that he plays politics with someone else's life and leaves me to die in peace.


4. I couldn't care less if a hundred religious zealots send e-mails to legislators in which they
pretend to care about me. I don't know these people, and I certainly haven't authorized them to preach and crusade on my behalf. They should mind their own business, too.


5. It is my heartfelt wish to expire quietly and without a public spectacle. This is obviously
impossible once elected officials become involved. So, while recognizing the wrenching emotions that attend the prolonged death of a loved one, I hereby instruct my relatives to settle all disagreements about my care in private or in the courts, as provided by law. If any of my family goes against my wishes and turns my case into a political cause, I hereby promise to come back from the grave and make his or her existence a living ____ (fill in the blank)


Sincerely,
Me

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Saturday, April 09, 2005

Nutbag Teacher: Cheater, Cheater!

I remember back in school, several kids getting in trouble for stealing an exam from the American history teacher's files, copying it, and selling it to students for a few bucks each. They were, if memory serves, suspended for three days. I'm sure all of my loyal Zensters have similar stories...it's as old as the hills.

This, however, is one variation I'd not yet heard:


Schoolhouse Crock



Rubin Leitner, who is developmentally disabled, sits outside his Brooklyn home, claiming Bronx teacher Wayne Brightly paid him to take a state exam after flunking it repeatedly. In need of his passing grade on the state certification exam, or risk losing his $59k-per-year job, Brightly paid the formerly homeless man (who suffers from Asperger's syndrome) $2 to take the test for him, authorities said.The illegal stand-in - who looks nothing like teacher Wayne Brightly - not only passed the high-stakes test, he scored so much better than the teacher had previously that the state knew something was wrong, officials said.

Along with being much smarter than Brightly, Leitner is 20 years older. He also is white and overweight while Brightly is black and thin. Brightly allegedly helped Leitner obtain a counterfeit state identification card that showed Leitner's photo with Brightly's name. Using the bogus ID, the pair conned city educrats into issuing Leitner a school ID card to use on test day, authorities said.

Brightly has been charged with coercion, falsifying business records and other crimes. He has been taken out of his Baychester classroom pending the outcome of the case.

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Tuesday, April 05, 2005

The Demon-Spawn Is Back: Trigeminal Neuralgia Attacks Again

Yes, my fellow bloggies....that personal hell I refer to as "Demon-Spawn" is back: I am suffering yet another nasty attack of trigeminal neuralgia.

For those who've never had the disorder (lucky you) or known anyone who does, trigeminal neuralgia is a rare disorder which causes horrific facial pain. For me, it's on the right side of my face (coincidentally, the bulk of my MS symptoms are on the right side of my body as well).

I was first diagnosed with it 6 years ago, after months of failed treatments for TMJ (which is what my doctor at the time was convinced I had). It took a neurologist only minutes to determine that TMJ was not the culprit, TN was. I had never heard of it before. I resolved to learn as much as I could, but what I learned was not particularly optimistic.

TN is often referred to as "The Suicide Disease," because so many sufferers attempt to kill themselves to get away from the pain. Never fear, Zen fans...I am not going to be one of them. I love my husband and kids too much for that. I'd rather live in pain than be without them, or cause them the pain of my untimely demise by my own hand.

For years, my TN was mostly under control. It flared up from time to time, but my meds took care of it and after a few days of a liquid diet and added rest, I would feel better.

Well, all that changed late last year. Suddenly, my pills weren't working anymore. And the pain was worse than it had ever been. I had never, ever felt pain like it before. And I've had gall stones, kidney stones, back labor and natural childbirth. I'd take all of those at the same time rather than go through a bad TN bout, let me tell you. Alas, not an option.

My doctor was nonplussed by my condition. I was informed that for many TN patients, there comes a time when you become nonresponsive to medications. I had not known this, and I felt such overwhelming panic at the idea. Never fear, there are surgical options...and I was told that my best bet was gamma knife surgery.

But there were a number of catches: first, I had to complete all my extensive dental work first, because many TN sufferers get worse or have new outbreaks as a result of dental work. That would take months. Second, the surgery doesn't work all the time for everyone. Even if it did seem to work...the TN could come back. But the creme de la creme: for some people, the surgery actually makes the TN WORSE. This is inexplicable to me. But I am out of choices, so surgery it is.

Until then, pain relief is my only option. Vicoden no longer works, so I'm on Oxycontin. And as of the day before yesterday, that isn't working anymore, either.

I wasn't expecting this. It took six years of Vicoden therapy before I ceased to get any relief from the drug. It's barely been six months of Oxycontin. To say that I am disappointed and a little frightened is an understatement.

Now, I am going to have to see my doctor today and find out what else can be done. I hate doing this. She's going to be pissed that I missed my last dental appointment (sorry, but I had a sick toddler who wanted nothing more than to nurse 24/7, and I don't think the dentist wanted to work around her). And if I'm exceedingly unlucky, I'll have to take yet another piss test to prove that I'm not a drug-seeking junkie. I loathe doing that, it is incredibly demeaning. I've given, over the past few years, more than a dozen clean piss tests to doctors...and yet, they still want more proof that I'm not looking to get high instead of what I'm really doing, which is looking to be able to sleep for a few hours. After being poked and prodded (making the pain even worse), I will, if I am fortunate enough, get a shot of Morphine. Perhaps then, I can sleep and be free from the pain, even if only for a little while.

So what's so bad about TN pain, you say? Good question. As I'm going through it as I type, I'm going to try to describe it.

The pain, for me, starts just above my right eyebrow. Imagine the worst migraine you've ever had, times 10, and focused on one tiny point in your head, drilling into you as if it's hoping to discover oil. That's what it feels like in that area.

But wait! There's more! Imagine there's a straight line drawn from that pinpoint above your eyebrow, behind your eye and all the way down to your jawline. Behind your eye, it feels like a hot brand pressing into you, marking you as a cow belonging to the TN Ranch of Hell.

Believe it or not, we're just getting warmed up. In my experience, the focal point of the pain, the absolute worst of it, occurs at the cheekbone level. Now keep in mind, I am Native American...I have very high cheekbones, one of my few vanities. They are just under my eye, and very prominent. From that point all the way down to my jaw, it feels as if a downed electrical wire has been trapped under my skin and is periodically zapping 1000 volts directly into my face. Zap! Zap! Zap!

In between zaps, there is this aching soreness that won't go away. Sometimes it feels as if I've had a hundred charley horses in my face. Every now and again, my face will actually swell up from it, but my prescription-strength Ibuprofen usually takes care of that pretty quickly. This soreness often radiates to my ears, and it begins to feel as if my eardrums will burst.

If the spasms of pain get very, very bad...my entire face will be in agonizing pain. And if the pain gets very, very, very, VERY bad...my jaw will actually lock up. This is when it becomes truly unbearable, and I, who am very good with pain, will begin to break down and panic. I even became hysterical once, and am not one who is prone to hysteria.

When my TN is acting up, I can barely speak. I can't eat. And I certainly can't sleep through the pain. It completely and totally incapicitates me in a way I never knew pain could do to a person.

What triggers attacks? Well, sometimes there is no telling. Often, though, I can determine what set the awful pain into motion. And it's amazing what tiny, insignificant things can set it off. Strong winds brushing up against my face. Chewing (I've been on a liquid diet for months because of it). Putting on make-up (I couldn't tell you when the last time I wore blush was...but I remember it hurt like hell). Stress and lack of sleep are good aggrivators of my TN, too. And if I forgot to take my Tegratol...I am almost gauranteed an attack. Even an hour late will make a big difference in the amount of pain I can expect to battle.

What do I do when I have an attack? Well, my first line of defense is to stop doing anything that might be causing it or aggrivating the situation. I've found lately, for example, that some of my exercises jump-start the TN, so I've had to discontinue them for the time being. My next step is to take pain relievers and relax while I wait for them to kick in. By "relax," I mean sitting down and doing something to take my mind off the pain (if that's possible): reading, playing around on the Internet, message boards, blogging, playing Sims Urbz on the DS (don't laugh, I'm actually addicted to this game, and I hate video games, lol).

I usually wait an hour for the pills to take effect. If I have some relief, I simply go about my day. If I'm lucky, I have total relief. But sometimes, like now, I get no relief from my medication. That's when things become increasingly unpleasant.

I have two choices: contact my doctor and see if she can see me, or go to the hospital. Of the two, I prefer to go to my doctor. It's faster, easier and better all the way around. Of course, it's not always possible. Sometimes, she can't see me in enough time. Or, the pain gets markedly worse during non-office hours. In those cases, it's off to the ER I go.

I hate the ER. It's usually noisy and crowded, and there's no telling how long I might have to wait. Even an hour is a lifetime when you're in so much pain you can't even remember your own name (and yes, that's happened to me). Most of the time, I am seen by a doctor who is completely unfamiliar with TN. Sometimes, I luck out, and not only has the doctor heard of it, but they are completely sympathetic. They also realize that I am an easy patient: just give me a shot and send me on my way. I love those kinds of doctors.

I am not often lucky.

The vast majority of the time, I end up with Tin God schmucks who either think I'm drug-seeking or think the pain is "not that bad" (have you ever tried it, Bozo?). Soemtimes, I get an asshole who is irritated that I am "wasting his time" with a chronic-pain issue. Never mind that I have a pain-management contract that allows for me to go to the ER if the pain is unbearable. They could care less. And then there are the dorks who don't have a clue what to do, even though said contract is right there in front of them TELLING them what to give me. They still waste time, calling the senior asshole in charge, then my doctor on call, and maybe even their mothers in Pasadena before coming back and giving me the shot of Morphine the fucking contract stipulated to in the first damned place.

I hate the ER.

One of the worst aspects of the ER experience is having to tell a hundred people exactly what it going on before you can get the much-needed shot. In other situations, this might not be so bad. But when you can hardly move your mouth, much less talk, without almost passing out from pain...giving the information over and over again becomes a form of torture which should be covered under the Geneva Convention as far as I'm concerned.

To minimize this particularly unpleasant scenario, I have devised what I call the "ER Cheat Sheet." It's a form I keep typed up on my computer and revise as necessary, then print out and bring with me to the ER. It contains all my information, so that the need to speak is kept to a minimum. I've been praised for it by more than one nurse, as it makes everyone's job so much easier. I highly recommend it, if you ever find yourself also suffering from a nasty attack of Demon-Spawn.

Here's my Cheat Sheet (with my personal info X'ed out, of course):



IT HURTS TO SPEAK. PLEASE DON’T ASK ME TO. THANKS!


My name is Angel XXX. DOB: XXXXX. SSN: XXXXX.
Doctor: Dr. XXXX of XXXX, XXXXX.
My address, phone number & insurance information have not changed.
TRIAGE NURSE: Please photocopy this for my chart.

I have trigeminal neuralgia (pain in the right side of my face.) I have a pain management contract. I’m to go to the ER if meds aren’t working & pain is unbearable. I AM NOT OUT OF MEDICATION; IT IS NOT WORKING.

Other conditions: I also have MS, tachycardia, & hypothyroidism.
I am allergic to codeine & the tetanus shot. No other known allergies to medications.
I’m nursing; I’m 18 months postpartum. My last period was XXXXXXXX.

I am taking the following medications: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

History: Diagnosed with TN 6 yrs. ago. Pain begins just under right eye near nose & continues in a line down face to jaw, worst at cheekbones. (feels like a live wire trapped under my skin, spewing electric shocks into my face). It’s not constant, but in between is a sore ache. It’s excruciatingly painful. I can’t eat, speak or sleep, due to pain. I have no other unusual symptoms; no numbness, headache, trouble swallowing or other pain.

Until 12-04, it was mostly controlled by Baclofen, Tegratol & Vicoden as needed. I can’t take Amitryptiline, because I’m nursing. I took Neurontin for 6 months, & had severe side effects (migraines, vertigo, vomiting, hypersensitivity to touch & depression).

In the past, I’ve had shots of Morphine & Phenergan (I get sick from shots) for pain. Please put shots on right side to avoid problems with my cane. My husband will be driving me home. This note was updated today (XXXXX).

Thank you,

Angel


With a "Cheat Sheet," you don't have to speak to Admissions, you don't have to speak to the Triage Nurse...and if you end up with a particularly accomadating doctor, you won't have to speak to him, either.

For today, I am hoping my doctor can see me. I haven't slept in two days, and that is not making the situation any better, I'm sure. Otherwise, I'll have no choice but to head out to the dreaded ER. I most assuredly cannot continue this way. No sane person could. And I would like to retain my sanity, as I've grown quite fond of it.

I hope this has been informative. If nothing else...it kept me busy for a little while.

Wish me luck...

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Friday, April 01, 2005

Nutbag Scratcher: Charges Follow Obscene Tattoo

Just when you think you've heard it all....



Charges Follow Forehead Tattoo


Police have charged a man and a teenager in central New York state with forcibly tattooing an obscenity on the forehead of a 17-year-old boy.

They won't describe the obscenity except to say it's a phrase.

The suspects are charged with assault and unlawful imprisonment. They're in jail in lieu of 25-thousand dollars bail, and a court hearing is set for tomorrow.

The victim walked into a police station Friday to file a complaint. He says the suspects held him down and used a homemade tattooing instrument.



YIKES! First of all, getting a tattoo with a homemade device is dangerous. You can't gaurentee sterility, and blood-borne diseases can be transmitted (as well as infection) as a result. So not only does this kid have the trauma of being held down and forcibly tattooed (on the head, no less...definately painful)...he's now got to worry about getting sick as a result, and he has the fun of multiple painful laser tattoo removal sessions.

I hope these nutbags serve serious jailtime. The freaks.

Although, out of morbid curiosity, I wish they'd let us know what the "phrase" was, lol. Any guesses?

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